


Ruffled

by CAPSING



Series: Finished, not Perfect [11]
Category: One Piece
Genre: (yeah those two tags sure look good next to one another), Ableism, Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Bittersweet Ending, Doffy's A+ Parenting, Domestic Violence, Gen, Homophobic Language, Kid Fic, Law has vitiligo, Sibling Incest, Unhealthy Relationships, Unreliable Narrator, mute character, offensive language
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-23
Updated: 2019-01-23
Packaged: 2019-10-15 03:40:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,725
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17521301
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CAPSING/pseuds/CAPSING
Summary: Law, running away from another negligent foster family, is taken in by a kind man with a kinder smile, who also happens to be the younger brother of a notorious Mafia Boss.





	Ruffled

**Author's Note:**

> [Our soundtrack for today.](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2v3D76gUQhA)  
> I've written this almost three years ago, and finally got around to finish it.  
> Pajarito, according to google translate, is “small bird”.

When adults tell their kids not to talk with creepy strangers who offer them candy, they should also attach a flyer with the profiles of the Donquixote brothers on it as a textbook example of “Stranger Danger”.  
But the man hasn’t offered Law anything but his hand; in fact, he had been suspiciously silent. Law didn’t have any parents to tell him otherwise, to teach him better than this; he only knew that the streets were snowing and that he was so very, very cold. It was only slightly worse than back at the latest foster home he’d managed to escape.

Adults usually didn’t smile at Law. He’s already six and three months old, so he knows those things, by now.

Adults definitely never made him hot cocoa, letting him sip it while sitting on what seemed to be a very expensive couch.

The man, huge in frame and height – even bigger than most adults were, so much so he had to bend to get through the doorframe, keeps silent as he smokes. Law doesn’t like the smell, so he sticks his nose into his mug, hoping the sweetness would chase the cigarettes off. He let his eyes take the room, which looks much more fun than most places Law had been to – there’s small ships locked in battles, and many flamingoes figurines and prints that brighten up the room with their pink.

The pink looks nice.

The whole place looks nice – way, way nicer than the homes Law is thrown into and from, again and again.

The ceilings are very high.

Law knows he himself doesn’t look as nice – he’d been told as much. He’d been told that a lot.

That’s why he likes the strange man, even when he smokes.

Because he hadn’t told Law any of that, at all.

 

* * *

 

Law wakes up to a heated tirade of words in Spanish, or Portuguese; he’s not sure how to tell them apart.

“Oi, squirt.” A harsh voice speaks, deep and menacing and directed at him. “Scram.”

There’s another huge man, that’s glaring at Law from between pink sparkling glass birds. He’s the one’s that had been talking; he gives Law chills. The man looks like a bad guy from a cartoon, frowning with sharply-shaped sunglasses, and he dresses weird, with a coat made out of feathers but no shirt underneath, when it’s snowing outside.

He’s the one who’s been yelling at the guy who brought Law in and gave him cocoa.

The one that had a genuine smile. That man doesn’t seem to want Law to scram, because when Law attempts to get up from the couch, he places a firm hand on Law’s shoulder and shakes his head. Then, he starts moving his hands in sharp, precise motions; he seems much less friendlier than he did before, when he glares at the man who’s been shouting. The new man snips back at whichever language, but his tone is measured.

“I don’t want to cause any trouble,” Law says, quietly, making both men turn to look down at him. They’re humongous, and he tries to make himself smaller on the couch. He can’t bring his legs up, because you can’t have shoes on the furniture, so he just sinks a bit lower than he already is.

“Thank you for the cocoa, mister. It’s been very good.” Law bows his head. “You’ve been very kind to me. I’ll be going– “

“You stay right there, twerp. Us adults are talking.” The unpleasant man barks at him, before turning to glare at the other man, who haven’t spoken a word. The shirtless man grins, and it’s the most unpleasant smile Law had ever seen. He spits something that sounds offensive and storms off, ignoring Law, banging his shoulder purposefully against the other man, making him stumble a bit to the side.

The man sighs, then looks down at Law, and smiles.

He really does have a very nice smile.

Law thinks he can stay a bit more, if the man is still smiling, even after all of that.

 

* * *

 

Law stays a bit more, because it’s nice.

He even has his own room, all to himself, with his own bed and his own window and his own books and toys.

He never had his own room before, never mind all the other stuff.

When Law wakes up, Rosinante – that’s how the silent man is called – is already in the kitchen, making pancakes and hot chocolate (and never bread after that first breakfast). He lets Law eat even between mealtimes, and seconds, and just how much he wants and then some.

No one ever let Law just eat whatever he wanted, or how much.

Doflamingo – that’s how the unpleasant scary man is called – is never there at breakfast; only on Sundays, before going to Church, and sometimes not even then. When he does join breakfast, Law keeps as silent as a mouse and doesn’t let out a peep, as the man downs his first bitter smelling coffee, then holds the empty cup in silent demand which Rosinante fulfils by making him his second cup. Rosinante then hands Doflamingo his morning paper, with no thank you or anything, and Doflamingo reads all the boring parts with squinted eyes and a displeased expression. He leaves his dishes dirty, and Law never excuses himself before he leaves the table when Doflamingo is there, because he tries his best to make himself invisible next to this man.

Rosinante teaches Law sign language, because that’s how Rosinante talks; Law thinks it’s fun. It’s also a way to keep quiet when Doflamingo is around, so it seems useful. Law doesn’t know how to read yet, so Rosinante teaches him that as well, though it’s pretty difficult with Rosinante not being able to talk. But whenever Law’s looking to check if he’s doing it well, Rosinante is smiling at him, so Law thinks he’s probably doing okay.

A week after Law has first entered the apartment, Doflamingo calls him to the living room; Rosinante follows, a supportive presence by his side. Law tries his best not to hide behind his leg, and lets Rosinante pull him up to sit on the couch. Law wants to lean onto him, but catches himself in time; adults didn’t like it when he did it, and he wants Rosinante to like him.

Doflamingo says something in a language Law now knows is Spanish; the language itself is so melodic and pleasant, but Doflamingo’s tongue has a way to curve the vowels into jagged spikes and his teeth snap at the ending of a sentence, like they’re trying to bite at you. Law wishes he could hear Rosinante speaking Spanish; he’s sure it’d be much nicer.

Rosinante doesn’t seem to share Law’s view, as Doflamingo talks over Law’s head from the armchair in front of them; at Doflamingo’s words, his smile widens, going wider than anything Law had ever seen him. His teeth look so white and beautiful.

It strikes Law, suddenly, that those two men look really similar to one another.

He’s not sure why.

Rosinante’s throat makes a weird sound, and he simply throws himself at Doflamingo from across the room, warping his arms around his neck and laughing with no sound. It’s the weirdest thing; when Law catches a glimpse at Doflamingo’s face, after Rosinante leans back, it looks completely different. His smile is smaller, and the vein that constantly throbs on his forehead is gone. Rosinante leans ahead and kisses his cheek, still gleeful; he nudges at Doflamingo’s shoulder, then turns to look at Law. Rosinante’s smile is always sincere and happy; Law never had someone looking at him like he’s the one making them happy.

“These here are your papers,” Doflamingo tells Law; he’s no longer smiling. Maybe it’s because Rosinante is sitting on him, and he must be pretty heavy.

Law peeks at the papers strewn across the coffee table, and looks quizzically up. “You’re now officially Donquixote Trafalgar Law, and Corazon is signed up as your dad. Your mom’s name was Dulcinea, and she’s dead. If anyone asks, that’s what you tell them, got that?”

“Corazon?” Law asks, confused.

Rosinante laughs without a sound and waves his hands, then points at himself.

“I thought your name was Rosa-Rosin-Rosana–“ Law stumbles on the long, foreign name, blushing. Rosinante looks at Doflamingo and signs to him, too quickly for Law to follow any of it.

“Rosinante,” Doflamingo snorts, the vein starting to reappear. “You’d better remember your dad’s name, twerp.”

“But you called him Corasan.” Law frowns.

Doflamingo mutters under his breath and gets up in a sharp movement, Rosinante dropping from his lap. He snaps something at Rosinante and storms off, like usual.

Rosinante smiles, but it seems a bit sad; then he turns to Law and his entire face light up like it’s Christmas. He picks Law and hugs him to his chest, making him blush in embarrassment. Rosinante smells like cigarettes and ash and other smelly things, but when it’s on him, it just doesn’t smell that bad.

“Wait,” Law squeaks. “It means– I can stay here?” he looks up at Rosinante. “Really?”

Rosinante smiles and nods, and Law lets the hug swallow him whole, because he can’t manage to swallow down his own tears.

 

* * *

 

Law is old enough to bath by himself; he doesn’t let Corasan – which is Rosinante’s other name for some reason, and Law likes it better so that’s how he starts calling him – into the bathroom with him.

At first Corasan stayed outside the bathroom’s door until Law was finished, but over time he stopped. In Corasan’s house there’s always warm water and soap that smells good and he can take actual baths and no one pounds at the door and tells him to hurry up or tells Law about all the money he’s costing them.

It’s Law alone that watched the familiar white stain on his skin, between his chest and stomach, spreading from day to day.

“Corasan,” he says, quietly, over dinner. He can’t turn his gaze away, because he needs to see Corasan’s reaction; still, looking at him his hard.

“I haven’t been truthful with you, Corasan,” he says, very quietly. Corasan lays down his fork, his expression turning sombre.

“Corasan. I’m dying.”

The man arcs a brow at him, grinning. _Explain_ , he signs; Law still doesn’t get sign perfectly, but he’s doing better. He can sign either of their names, and all the polite things to say.

“I have a condition. But it’s growing worse. I don’t think I have much time.”

_This isn’t funny_ , Corasan signs, and he looks angry. Wordlessly, Law pulls his shirt up.

Corasan’s eyes widen, and Law hastily pulls the shirt down, but it’s too late; Corasan is immediately upon him, shoving the shirt back up, eyes growing wide as he traces the stain. He looks up at Law.

He looks scared.

“It’s not contagious,” Law assures him, anxious. “Lots of boys seen it at the homes and none of them ever caught it, so don’t worry–“

Corasan isn’t listening to him. He falls down in his haste to get to the living room, where he’s charging his phone. Law has to gulp down his building dread as Corasan immediately punches at the screen, assumingly to call–

“What is it? I’m busy.” Doflamingo voice snarls from the speaker; Corasan has set the phone propped on the coffee table, signing to him like a maelstrom.

“Wait, wait. The feed is lagging, slow down,” Doflamingo says, less annoyed.

“What do you mean, ‘a doctor’?”

Corasan gestures for Law to bring himself over, but Law hesitates; he doesn’t know why, but he doesn’t want Doflamingo to see. The man already tolerates him at best; if he’ll see–

Corasan isn’t his usual patient self; he grabs the phone and strides to Law, pulling his shirt up without warning and thrusting the phone to deliver it. Out of the corner of his eye, Law sees Doflamingo’s grin dropping, his lips thinning.

“I’ll call someone to come over. I’ll be there in thirty.” Then he ends the call.

 

The doctor arrives before Doflamingo does; she’s an old woman with a golden ring in her belly button and pants Doflamingo would probably love.

“The patient?” she asks when Corasan opens the door; her voice is raspy. She sounds like she’s smoking, too.

Corasan gestures to Law, who is sitting on the sofa, gripping his knees tightly. Corasan has his notepad with him now, along with a long pen that ends with a feathery pink fluff that swirls around when he writes. He writes down something; the doctor lowers one of the pairs of glasses on her head, then nods, turning to Law.

She sets a heavy looking briefcase down on the floor, then smiles at Law.

“My name is Doctorine,” she tells him, and up close she doesn’t seem that bad. “And you are?”

“Donquixote Trafalgar Law,” he answers dutifully, wondering what’s taking Corasan so long; there’s a loud crash in the kitchen, implying many glasses are to be replaced. “Corasan gets clumsy when he’s nervous.”

“You call your father by his name?” the doctor asks with a sharp smile, and Law feels himself blushing, turning his head away.

She chuckles slightly, before turning serious. “Are you in pain, Law?” she asks.

Law shakes his head.

“I see,” she says. “I’m going to check a few things, okay? To see if everything is working as it should.”

Corasan comes back soon enough, when the doctor asks Law to take a deep breath and presses a small circular disk against him, first his chest, then his back.

The door slams open and Law inhales sharply; he looks up to see Doflamingo storming in his direction, looming above him and the doctor.

“Well?” he barks, his grin wide.

“Ahhh, Doffy,” the woman says, “A pleasure, as always.”

“The diagnosis, if you please, Doctor.” He smiles.

“My diagnosis is that you’re interrupting me and my patient. Go hover someplace else.” She barks back, and sticks the device back in her ear.

“Now, Law– “ The doctor turns back to him.

Law can’t believe she just talked like this to Doflamingo.

The man fumes, his vein throbbing notably, and he stomps each step until he’s sitting on the couch near Corazon, somehow spreading his body to take enough space for three people.

The doctor sticks a wooden stick in his throat (which he dislikes), hits a small hammer to his knees, gropes his throat and nose and does all sorts of funny things. He’s uncomfortable with the men hovering in the back, but bears through.

“All done,” the doctor announces, and gives Law a bright red lollipop, grinning down at him. “As healthy as an ox, you are.”

“The fuck are you talking about,” Doflamingo jumps from the couch, thunderous expression on his face. “Don’t tell me you’ve missed all that shambles on his chest.”

“Shambles?” The doctor frowns. “You mean–“

“The white stains.”

The doctor looks unimpressed. “You called me, for that?”

Doflamingo glares at her. “No, I just missed your hot ass.”

Then she laughs, so hard she doubles over. “You really are an idiot, aren’t you, boy.”

Law looks up at her.  “So…” He swallows, nervous. “I’m not dying?”

“Who told you that!” the doctor stops laughing, and turns to him, alarmed.

“The other boys. They told me…” he trails off, looking unsure.

“Kid, unless you’re planning to run under the wheels of a truck, you’re going to live a long, healthy life. What you have is called vitiligo; once people thought it was a hereditary condition, meaning one of your parents or grandparents must have had it, or carried it.” She gives a shrewd one-over look over Corasan. “Must’ve been from your mother’s side.”

Corasan tugs at the collar of his shirt, avoiding eye contact.

“But now people aren’t sure of its cause. You skin has paint in it, like a picture. With vitiligo, some of that paint leaks out, and that what makes some of your skin lighter. But it doesn’t affect your health.”

“Will I get the colour back?”

“No,” the doctor says. “Why would you want to get it back?”

“If I don’t have the colour anymore, it means there’s something wrong with my skin.”

“No, it just means it doesn’t have colour anymore. You don’t have to have colours on a picture for it to be a good picture, right?”

Law frowns.

“Besides, it means you get twice the colours any other people have. Some people can get darker by going out to the sun, but no one can get lighter like you can.”

Law nods, sucking on the lollipop.

“Really now, Doffy,” the doctor turns, “with how you’ve sounded over the phone, I thought you’ve had someone bleeding out on your couch.” She grins. “Not that it means it’d be any cheaper.”

“Of course not.” Doflamingo grins like he does when he’s incredibly upset. “There’s no price-tag for health, is there?”

 

(The lollipop is very sweet.)

 

That night, Corasan hesitates before turning off the lights at Law’s room. He looks down at Law, and his eyes look so sad, even when his lips are still smiling.

Corasan ends up sleeping on the floor next to him; Law notices it in the morning, when he accidentally steps on Corasan, waking him up.

But Corasan is awesome, so he doesn’t get mad, and makes him twice the pancakes he usually does.

(They taste even sweeter than the lollipop.)

(Doflamingo isn’t there to eat them at breakfast, either.)

 

* * *

 

Law doesn’t get to see Doflamingo much, but when he does, he keeps quiet and doesn’t ask questions.

That’s why, a month into living with them, he’s surprised when Doflamingo asks him a question over breakfast.

It’s not even Sunday.

“What?” he asks, too stunned to comprehend. Doflamingo’s grin turns sharper.

“I said,” he says sweetly, “that starting this Monday, you’re going to join pre-school.”

Doflamingo is wearing his sunglasses. The ones that make him look even meaner.

Law looks at Corasan.

“I’ve never been to pre-school before,” he says, lowering his eyes. “What’s it like?”

“You’d love it there,” Doflamingo assures, though Law doesn’t know what makes it seem like he’s lying every time he speaks, “And Corasan would love you there, too.”

Law watches as Corasan enthusiastically nods his head, smiling, giving a thumbs-up.

“Or would you rather stay here?” Doflamingo leans forwards, looming, and Law shifts uncomfortably in his chair.

“I’d do whatever you think is right, Sir,” he answers what he thinks would please Doflamingo most.

Doflamingo’s grin drops and his mouth is stretched into a straight, tense line. He aggressively picks the paper and thumps his empty cup at Corasan’s bicep, demanding a re-fill.

“Pre-school it is, then.”

Doflamingo is still scary, but Corasan’s pancakes are the best, even when they’re a bit burnt.

 

* * *

 

“Corasan! Corasan!”

Law doesn’t usually get so happy about school work, but today he is. After all, the teacher looked at him drawing longer than any of the other kids.

Corasan is sitting in front of the television in the living room without watching it, frowning at some papers in his hands, when he looks up at Law and smiles.

_Welcome home, Law,_ he signs after setting the papers down, and opens his arms wide to hug him. Doffy isn’t around, so Law lets himself indulge in Corasan’s affections.

_How was school?_

“Corasan! I have a surprise for you!”

He excitedly picks through his bag, Corasan setting his papers further aside and muting the television as he searches for his drawing, finally pulling it out.

“Look!”

Corasan takes the drawing carefully from his hands, his smile dropping.

“Today at class, Miss Kalifa told us we should draw our families. She said mine looked really cool!” Law says, stressing slightly when Corasan keeps staring at the drawing.

“Corasa– hey, hey, don’t– don’t cry!”

But Corasan is crying, and Law is panicking; what did he do to offend Corasan? Was is because he didn’t draw him big enough? Law really tried, making Corasan and Doflamingo as big as they are, with their house and the sun and everything else–

“I’m– I’m sorry, I didn’t mean–“

But Corasan doesn’t let him finish, and wraps Law in his huge strong arms, frame shaking as he cries silently. When he’s done, he pulls back and his face is almost split open from how wide his mouth is stretched.

_Thank you, Law._ Corasan signs, slowly, cheeks still looking a bit wet. _This is the best present I’ve ever had_.

“Really?”

Corasan nods, and his eyes are warm and happy. Law feels happy, too.

_Doffy would love it._

“You think?”

_I’m sure of it._

 

During dinner, it’s put to the test.

“Today in class,” Law speaks, hesitant, as Corasan is urging him on with his smile. “We had to draw our family… so…” Corasan excitedly slides the drawing over the table, towards Doflamingo.

“What is this,” Doflamingo states rather then ask, his long digit hovering above the paper as he points at a particular point, making Law fear he’d smudge all his hard work.

“It’s fire.” He explains, looking at the flames surroundings them three in the drawing. “I thought the flamingo would be cooler if he would breath out fire, like a dragon.”

“How come you didn’t draw a dragon, then?”

Law frowns. “Flamingos are cooler than dragons. ‘Cause they’re real.”

Doflamingo bursts out laughing.

It’s so unexpected, Law almost falls off his chair; he looks to Corasan, who seems to smiling more brightly than ever at the sound. He looks at Law with so much emotion, that Law has to look away from it.

“Nice work, pajarito,” Doflamingo ruffles Law’s hair, the first time he touched him ever since they met. His hand is too rough and he applies too much pressure, but Law still smiles, because after Doflamingo hangs his drawing on the fridge, he tells him:

“The next one, I’d hang in my office.”

* * *

 

There’s a fundamental shift in Doflamingo’s treatment to Law, after that.

Law doesn’t know why, but Doflamingo starts appearing at more and more dinners, asking him about his day and listening in.

When he tells Corasan something in Spanish again, making Law frown, Doflamingo pauses and turns to him.

“Time you’ll learn some Español too, don’t you think, pajarito? It wouldn’t do for a member of the Family, speaking only English.”

“Really?”

“De verdad.”

 

* * *

 

Corasan is insistent to come with Law for his first day of school. He wears a large feathery coat, like Doffy’s, only in black, puts on the stuff that makes his eyes look even bigger and paints his lips in his favourite colour. Corasan only does that when he wants to look really pretty for a special occasion, and it makes Law very happy (though he doesn’t show it).

Vergo drives them there in the car; Law doesn’t like the chauffer much, since he never talks and always has some leftover food stuck on his face, which is just gross.

When Corasan sits next to Law, buzzing with excitement, Law thinks it’s the first time in a year they’ve went outside together. They went a few times with Doffy, but never just the two of them. It makes him even happier.

(Sometimes Corasan puts on makeup even when he’s not going outside, and sometimes he does it wrong because Law can see blue and red and all sorts of weird colours on Corasan’s skin, and Law already saw when Corasan kissed Doffy’s cheek and left a mark there, and with Corasan being so clumsy, it just makes sense that he spills makeup on himself from time to time, and that’s why Doffy is so mad at him.)

Corasan walks him all over to class, and to his seat. He greets Law’s teacher with a polite bow, and takes the notepad and the pen out when she starts talking. Law doesn’t listen in; he sees all the other kids staring and whispering to each other. They’re probably jealous, because their parents don’t seem half-as-cool as Corasan is; they’re all dressed in plain boring clothes, and none of the men has even a tiny bit of make-up on their faces, so they don’t look pretty at all.

Corasan smiles brightly at everyone, walking Law to his seat.

He takes a picture with his phone, then bends over next to Law to document them both; he seems giddy when he texts them to the person that could only be Doffy.

_Be good, Law!_ Corasan signs, bending to kiss Law’s cheek. _Vergo would pick you up at the end of the day, okay?_

_I know already_ , Law hastily signs back, blushing, embarrassed that Corasan kissed him in front of all those strangers, though he’s not sure why.

_Love you!_ Corasan signs by bending his two forefingers and pressing his thumbs together, topping it all by smiling like a dumbass and making Law’s blush darken.

_BYE_ , Law signs with exaggerated movements and shoves at him, and Corasan waves him goodbye without taking his eyes off of Law, walking backwards – and falling over the tables, three times.

 

* * *

 

It doesn’t take long for Law to learn that school is a lot different than pre-school, in many ways.

Law isn’t a kid anymore.

(But sometimes, he wishes it wouldn’t have been that different.)

“What’s this,” Doflamingo growls during dinner when he’s finally done with his loud phone call, grasping Law’s chin and turning his face sharply towards him.

Law silently lets him study the bruise blooming under his left eye.

“How did that happen.”

“I walked into a door.”

Doflamingo’s grasp tightens, almost painful but not quite, and his grin turns sharper.

“Don’t lie to me, pajarito. Did someone hit you? Did you manage to piss someone off that bad they punched you in the face?”

“They started it,” Law protests. “They were saying mean stuff about Corasan–“

“Oh?” Doflamingo inquires, and Law’s gut twists. “Were they? What were they saying?”

Law turns his eyes down, feeling his heartbeat quickening. “Things.”

“Pajarito.” Doflamingo says quietly, deceptively calm. “You know I don’t like repeating myself.”

This was even scarier then when Doffy was actually screaming, though he never screamed at Law.

“They said he can’t talk because he’s too dumb. And they called him a queen, I’m not sure why, because he doesn’t look like a woman at all. And something–“ Law frowns. “Something with an ‘f’? Far– no, fag–“, he remembers, suddenly “–a faggot, but I don’t know what that means. But they said it in a bad way.”

“And you let them?” Doflamingo asks, obviously displeased. The look behind his sunglasses is flat and ominous.

“No!” Law protests. “I told them they were wrong! Then I told Bellamy he’s a faggot, and he punched me.”

“And did you punch him back?”

“No.” Law says sullenly.

“Good. You shouldn’t use violence to solve conflicts, remember that.”

When Law manages to make himself peek, Corasan looks at Doflamingo approvingly, but there’s something else that makes him seem very sad, which Law doesn’t like at all.

The rest of dinner passes in tense silence, with the bruise beneath Law’s eye throbbing.

 

Later, when Corasan is in the shower, Doffy gestures for Law to join him in the living room. He’s drinking the smelly stuff again, the one that comes in pretty glass bottles and stored in the glass cabinet Law isn’t allowed to touch. Not that he’d ever manage, with it being so tall.

“Next time some little shithead say those things about Corazon, pajarito,” Doffy tells Law, and he’s so close Law can smell the drink from his mouth, “you punch their noses back into their skull, until they’re flat.”

“But you’ve said–“

“I know what I’ve said.” Doffy interjects, sharp. “Corazon is too soft, pajarito. This is why we should keep him safe. You love Corazon, don’t you? He’s _Family_.”

When Doflamingo says ‘ _Family’_ the word has weight and meaning.

“ _Family_ watches each other backs. And Family don’t let other kids trash-talk their dads, without making them face the consequences.” He pauses, smiling. “You understand, pajarito? Corazon doesn’t understand, that’s why we’d keep this between us, okay?”

Law doesn’t understand, but he nods, anyway. “Okay, Doffy.”

The man laughs. It’s the good laugh, the rare laugh, the one Law barely gets to hear.

“Go to bed, pajarito.” He ruffles Law’s hair, and again it’s unpleasant, but Law tolerates it because Doffy almost never touches him, so even when it’s not pleasant, Law still feels happy. And because Doffy seems happy, so much so he can’t stop his hand from reaching out.

When Doffy smiles – _really_ smiles – he even looks a bit like Corasan, and Corasan has the prettiest smiles.

They’re both _Family_ , so it’s Law’s responsibility to make sure they’d smile.

 

* * *

 

Law is in bed when the door to his room opens. Corasan smells like the shampoo he’d just used, that has a smell that’s not sweet at all, and a pack of cigarettes he probably just burnt through.

“Corasan,” Law mumbles, rubbing his eyes.

_Law_ , Corasan signs back, reserved. _Are you–_ he hesitates over his next movements, sitting down on Law’s bed, the nightlight illuminating his words.

_Do I embarrass you?_ Corasan finally manages, and Law yawns, confused.

“I’d never be embarrassed by you, Corasan. You’re the coolest.” Law yawns again. “I love you, y’know.”

 

Corasan gives the best hugs, and it’s easy to fall asleep in his arms, especially when it’s past bedtime.

 

* * *

 

Miss Viola is really nice. She’s patient and kind and gives him sweets, but there’s something weird in her eyes that always make Law feel like she somehow sees more of him, in a way he can’t quite explain.

One day, when Vergo goes out to take a call, she quickly leans towards Law and whispers a question to his ear.

“Now Law, this is very important. Has Doffy…” she swallows. “Has Doffy been touching you, in ways he shouldn’t have?”

“Huh?” he mutters, confused. “Uncle Doffy never touches me.” He thinks. “He messed up my hair twice, and that’s about it. He only touches Corasan.”

Viola seems ever paler when he says that.

“Really?”

“Yeah.” He nods, happy. “He really liked Corasan. He hugs him and kisses him and they even sleep together in the same bed sometimes. I’m not allowed, though.”

 

When he comes back home he tells Corasan about Viola weird questions. 

Corasan also pales.

_It’s very important you won’t tell any of this to Doffy, OK, Law?_ He signs frantically, looking Law in the eye. _Promise me._

“Okay.” Law says, and doesn’t think much about it.

 

* * *

 

“Where are we going?” Law frowns, looking out of the car’s window, then back at Vergo. “That’s not the way for Miss Viola.”

“You have a new Spanish teacher,” Vergo replies, eyes stuck on the road and a piece of lettuce stuck on his face.

“Why?” Law asks.

Vergo doesn’t reply, and neither does Corasan, later, and Law soon forgets all about Miss Viola, and never meets her again.

 

* * *

 

“What’s this?” Doflamingo asks, plucking the paper from Law’s hands.

“It’s my credit report.” Law says, looking up expectantly at Doflamingo to judge his reaction.

“Oh?” Doflamingo’s grin grows, “All A plus, eh?”

Corasan is smiling proudly at him, drying a dinner plate.

“Good work, pajarito. I think it’s a cause for celebration, eh?” It should be spoken to Law, but he turns to look at Corasan. “We’d go out, someplace nice. Wouldn’t that be fun?”

Corasan smiles, and it looks slightly strained.

Law doesn’t get why.

 

* * *

“A parent-teacher conference?” Doflamingo raises a brow. “How do you expect to go with Law? You can’t talk.”

Corasan frowns; he signs something quickly, angrily, making Doflamingo shrug in response.

“I know that, but I don’t think Law’s teacher does. I’ll come with you,” he has a dangerous smile again. “It’d be easier, this way.”

“You would?” Law asks, feeling his heart skip a beat. He loves Corasan, but getting uncle Doffy’s approval is so hard; every time he shows the slightest interest, Law immediately basks in it. He’s still scary and unpredictable, and sometimes when he gets really mad Law wants to hide in the closet until he goes away – but he and Doffy also swore to protect Corasan together, and they’re Family, and that’s the most important thing.

“Why not, pajarito.” He smiles at him. “It would do good if I’d see who’s the one responsible for your education. You spend most of your day at school, after all.”

Corasan continues to sign that Doffy doesn’t need to do all of this, tapping on his shoulder to get his attention. Doflamingo shrugs him off.

“Why, Corazaon,” he says pleasantly, “with all your objections, one would almost think you don’t _want_ me to go.”

Corasan stops signing, his expression grim.

“That’s what I thought.” He grabs Corasan tie and pulls him close. “Don’t worry, Corazon. I wouldn’t do anything to _embarrass_ pajarito.”

“You wouldn’t embarrass me.” Law speaks to his shoes.

He’s not sure how to say what he feels, so he leaves it at that.

 

* * *

 

It feels weird to get ready for school without getting his backpack, after he already finished his homework and watched Corasan filling out paperwork with lots of numbers on them, because he was really smart. Uncle Doffy is also early, coming to pick Law and Corasan up for the conference back in school.

Law feels uneasy, but, as it often so happens, he doesn’t know why.

He keeps it to himself.

“Oi, Corazon.” Doffy calls Corasan, who’s checking himself up in the mirror, making sure his shirt wasn’t creased and that his hair was presentable. “We’re going to meet Law’s teachers, you can’t go out like that.” Doffy grins. “We need to make an impression.”

Corasan looks just fine to Law, and there’s something in Uncle Doffy’s voice, when he speaks, that sounds insincere and mean.

“C’mon, can’t be late, can’t we? Go powder your nose,” Doffy waves Corasan back into their room, and Law doesn’t say anything, even though he wants to, because Uncle Doffy seems angry, even when he smiles, so he keeps staring at his shoes.

 

Doffy tells Vergo to wait for them, and holds out his hand for Corasan to take, when they step out of the car and into the school grounds. Doflamingo struts into the halls like a rooster entering a hen-pen, grabbing Corasan’s hand with one of his own. To Law, Uncle Doffy’s fingers seem to close around Corasan’s wrist like a shackle.

“Lead the way, pajarito.” Doffy says, and Law does, tucking his hands into his pockets, noting how everyone stop and stare at them.

Corasan isn’t smiling, staring at nothing in particular; Law thinks he looks very pretty, with his red lipstick and makeup. He’s glad to have Corasan with him, looking this pretty, but he’s too embarrassed to say so out loud, when Uncle Doffy can hear and probably say something hurtful like he does when he’s in one of his moods.

Doflamingo, himself, doesn’t look at anyone, like they’re beneath him, grinning wide.

A cough and chocked chuckles make Doflamingo stop.

“Eh? What was that? You ought to speak out.” Doflamingo turns to look at a group of men standing with their sixth-graders. Law knows them; they’re the one who called Corasan dumb and said other bad things about them.

“Hey, it’s the brat!” One of the sixth-graders calls; his nose is crooked, making his voice weird and wavery. “Dad, that’s the one who broke my nose!”

“That skinny panda-weirdo?” the man behind snorts, and hits his son on the head. “You’d get hit by such a skinny freak?”

Law flinches slightly, even when he tries not to. The man is big and meaty, and also really tall, even if not as much as Corasan or Uncle Doffy. He looks strong and his face look mean, with his dark beard and thick moustache.

“My, my,” Dofflamingo says, his fingers uncurling from their hold on Corasan’s wrist as he steps before Law. “You really ought to keep that mouth shut.”

The man grins cockily and spits on the floor. The other men laugh rudely.

“Jeet, I think you got that pimp there pissed!” one of them slaps the boy’s father back.

“What’cha faggot gonna do ‘bout it?” the man asks.

“Maybe start a pillow fight, with all the feathers he has; probably from the pillows he and his queen bite onto.”

The vein pops to life on Doflamingo’s forehead; he gets the creepy smile of his, the smile he has when he tells Corasan he got the money from someone who didn’t pay until he made them.

“Uncle Doff–“

“Shut it,” he snaps at Law. There’s a crowd gathering in the intersection between the halls, but none intervene.

Corasan steps over to pull Law back, the firm hand on his shoulders urging him to stay still. Law looks up, and Corasan is paler than he had ever seen him, shaking his head slightly without taking his eyes off of Doflamingo.

“Since I’m here with my Family, I’m feeling gracious.” Doflamingo says. “I’d give you an opportunity to beg Corazon for your pathetic lives like the worms you are, after you apologise, of course.”

Jeet puffs out his chest in anger. He’s no match for Doflamingo’s height, but he’s pretty close.

“Watch your cock-sucking mouth, _amigo._ ”

Corasan takes couple of steps back. The hand on Law’s shoulder is trembling.

“Oh dear. This is a place of education, is it not?” He turns to Law, who had never been more afraid of Doflamingo than he is now.

“Law,” he says, and he _never_ calls Law by name.

“Watch and learn.”

 

Law has always been slightly wary of Uncle Doffy, but he has never raised a hand against him. He was a bit harsh when they met, and wasn’t a pleasant conversationalist, but unlike many foster homes Law went through, he had never hit him or let him go to bed without dinner.

In Law’s book, it meant a lot when an adult didn’t hit him.

Yet it appears his fear was not unwarranted; Doflamingo simply butchers the men like they’re nothing but insects, using nothing but his body, grinning all the while. He kicks one into a locker, elbows one in the ribs with enough force Law can hear the man’s ribs cracking. He breaks arms, dislocates shoulders, and each scream of pain just seem to egg him on more.

He punches Jeet repeatedly, only letting him gasp a few time and throw up blood from his mouth, along with – Law sees the small white pieces falling to the floor – few of his teeth.

“Pwease,” the man begs, frightened.

“I no hablan Inglés, _amigo_ ,” Doflamingo purrs, and breaks the man face.

Law watches the entire ordeal, transfixed; with his two hands, Doflamingo brings down five men, not even winded.

“Tch,” he growls, wiping his shoe onto one man’s trousers. “Tienes mi zapato lleno de sangre.”

“I’m calling the police,” a shaken voice speaks from the silent crowd, and Doflamingo turns to it sharply, grinning. “Here, use my phone. You’d get straight to Kuzan. He’s the head of the district, y’know. It’d be much quicker, that way.”

No one moves to take Doflamingo’s phone.

He turns back to Law and Corasan, grin still in place, like nothing out of the ordinary took place.

“Vamonos.”

 

No one bugs Law in school, after that. No one even glances his way.

(And the saved parking spot of the principal is now parked with a brand new car, way above his pay-grad. But Law doesn’t know that.)

 

* * *

Law wakes up crying to a wet bed. He looks down, horrified; he’d wet the bed again, _like a baby_. He hastily climbs down from the bed, anxiety building up. What should he do? It’s late, and Corasan is probably sleeping– he shouldn’t wake him up. But what if Corasan would get even madder when he finds it out in the morning?

He stumbles out of his room as quietly as he can, sniffling. He knocks on Corasan’s door quietly, but there’s no answer. He opens it – but Corasan isn’t sleeping in his room.

It’s empty.

Law hovers at the door, lost.

“What are you doing up so late, pajarito?”

Doflamingo’s voice makes him jump.

Law turns; Doffy’s hair is messed up and he reeks of alcohol. Law knows it’s not good to be near Uncle Doffy when he’s been drinking. Corasan told him as much.

“You should be in bed.”

Law wants to tell him he can’t go back to bed because it’s wet, but he’s suddenly terrified. Doffy would hate him if he’d know he’s a baby, that he’s trouble that pisses on everything like a disrespectful brat. He wants to apologise, but all that comes out of his mouth is a sob – he starts crying, and he can’t stop.

He doesn’t hear what Doflamingo is saying, and he tries really hard to listen or stop but he can’t and it just makes him cry harder.

“Pajarito,” Doffy cradles his face in his huge hands, and suddenly Law can see his uncle’s face up close – he even took off his sunglasses. Uncle Doffy’s eyes are very pale shade of brown, like caramel candies, and he looks very tired. “Why are you crying? Did you have a bad dream?”

Law nods. “I didn’t mean to.” He whispers, and looks down.

Doflamingo’s gaze follows his, but Law can’t see his reaction.

“Pajarito,” he says again, voice very soft. “Did you think I’d be angry at you? For wetting the bed?”

Law nods, more tears slipping down his face. His eyes are burning, and he blinks rapidly, hoping to make the feeling go away.

“Look at me,” Doflamingo tells him, and he looks up. “Did you do it on purpose?”

“No.” Law sniffles.

“So why would I be mad at you?”

Law shrugs. “Only babies wet the bed.”

Doflamingo frowns. “Don’t listen to stupid people, pajarito, or you’d learn to say stupid things. You’re a kid. Kids pee themselves when they have nightmares. Corazon used to, until he was twelve.”

“Corasan did?” Law sniffles.

“Yeah.” Doflamingo smiles. “Some people, pajarito, have good reasons to pee themselves. Reasons stupid people wouldn’t understand.” He chuckles, but it doesn’t sound happy at all.

“Uncle Doffy,” Law says, because his mouth asks it before his brain can tell it to stop. “Why do you call Corasan that?”

“I just call it as I see it,” his uncle replies. “He is, y’know. My Corazon.”

Law doesn’t get it, but he nods, because up close, Uncle Doffy’s eyes look soft, and he’s Family. Maybe it’s one of those things, the ones that adults say he’d figure out when he’s older.

“You know how to wash up?” Doflamingo asks, and Law nods. “Do that. I’d go change your sheets.”

Law takes a short shower, that’s not quite cold but not quite warm. He wraps himself in his favourite fluffy towel and pads over to his room, feet tracking water after him on the floor.

Doflamingo is sitting on the bed, sunglasses back on, hunched into himself. He raises his head in acknowledgment, as Law enters the room.

“Corasan isn’t here.” Law tells him.

“He isn’t.” Doffy affirms. “Put on your pajamas,” he gestures to an array of clothes on the new sheets – a jolly set of smiling jungle animals, and picks the towel up from where Law dropped it on the floor, letting Law dress by himself as he ventures out the room, towel at hand.

“Uncle Doffy?” Law says quietly, when the man returns.

“Yes, pajarito?”

Law just plasters himself to his leg, hugging it tight. He never dared to touch Doflamingo out of his own accord, but he’s tired and exhausted and Corasan isn’t around, and he longs for the comfort and assurance an adult can offer.

Doflamingo ruffles his hair.

His huge hand is soft as it is strong, and it’s warm, even when the room feels chilly from the open window.

“When is Corasan coming back?” Law murmurs into Doffy’s leg, unsure.

“Soon.” His uncle replies, tucking him into bed, closing off the lights but keeping the night-light on.

“Buenas noches, pajarito.”

“Buenas noches.” Law parrots back, and falls asleep soon after, with a soft touch tickling at his forehead.

 

* * *

 

A month after the teacher-parent conference Law never quite attended, a new student joins his class. His name is Ludwig DeSaru, but he tells Law to call him Luffy. He’s a bit of an oddball, but he doesn’t stay away from Law like he’s a leper, and seem to be easily bribed with food. His dream – which he readily shares with anyone who’d listen – is to grow up and be a pirate.

“Not just a pirate,” Luffy grins. “I’m going to be the Pirate King!”

“Pirates don’t have kings.” Law says, confused.

“That’s why I’d be the first.” Luffy grins some more, and Law likes his smile, though it’s very different from Corasan’s smile. It’s still nice. “What about you?”

“I want to be a doctor.”

“Huh,” Luffy blinks at him for a moment. “Good! You could be my ship’s doctor.”

“I couldn’t.” Law frowns. “I’m already going to be Uncle Doffy and Corasan’s doctor.”

“Awww man,” Luffy pouts. “But I wanted _you_ to be my doctor.”

Law shrugs, and stabs the straw into his juice-box.

 

* * *

Movie nights are the best.

Corasan always picks the movies, and his favourites are cartoons. Uncle Doffy always rants and frowns and makes fun of the choices, but he sits through every single one, not once touching his phone. Law sits in Corasan’s lap and Corasan leans on Uncle Doffy and it’s all warm and very, very nice. Law can feel Corasan’s laughter at his back and the popcorn is fresh and salty, and halfway through the movie, when he’s half-asleep, he hears Uncle Doffy speaking very softly in a completely different way, where his Spanish curls and rolls around Corasan like a soft scarf that was knitted especially for him, when he says _Corazon_ and _Mi vida_ and other mushy stuff like that, Law thinks it’s nice, to have a Family.

 

“There’s nothing I wouldn’t do for you, you know that, right?” Uncle Doffy asks, and Corasan, like always, remains silent.

**Author's Note:**

> Dear readers, remember – abuse is never justified.  
> No one is allowed to hurt you, and it’s not your responsibility to heal someone’s health at the cost of your own. If they really care about you, they wouldn’t want to hurt you, and would take time to work on themselves apart, so they can be a positive part of your life.  
> Also - the part with the Vitiligo wasn't overly accurate.
> 
> All feedback is welcome and appreciated! :)  
> *  
> Thanks to [Harmonica Smile ](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rescue_Remedy/pseuds/Harmonica_Smile) for your feedback on the rating! Changed, with your advice.


End file.
